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corner. By the newsstand.”

      She followed his gaze. Sure enough, the gunmen she’d encountered in the cafeteria stood at the corner, talking into a cell phone and gesturing angrily. She wished she could hear what he was saying because she was almost certain it had to do with Chase and her.

      “What do we do now?” she whispered.

      “I need to get my hands on a phone.”

      Spinning, he urged her into a run. They sprinted through the courtyard, past a rusty fire escape and the darkened windows of a seafood shop where selections and prices were written in Chinese.

      They ran for what seemed like forever. But Lily didn’t think about the discomfort or fatigue. All she could think about were the armed gunmen who obviously meant her harm. She’d always known something like this would happen. How could Chase do this to her and the baby? How could he place them in danger like this?

      At the end of the block, she pulled her hand from his. Bending, she gulped deep breaths until the aching in her back subsided.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      She wasn’t all right. Not by a long shot. She was frightened and angry and worried. Her physical stamina had long since run its course. “I can’t keep up this pace,” she said between pants.

      “Are you in pain?”

      “No, I’m just…exhausted.”

      Setting his hand protectively on the small of her back, he looked around, his topaz eyes scanning the surrounding shops and fire escapes that laced the old buildings like steel spiderwebs. When his gaze met hers, Lily saw concern and a tenderness she didn’t want to acknowledge.

      “There’s a homeless shelter a few blocks away,” he said. “We can rest there and try to come up with a game plan.”

      “All right.”

      Avoiding the more populated areas, they stuck to the shadows beneath colorful awnings and darkened neon signs. Lily usually loved Chinatown. She walked it often, buying fresh vegetables and fish when she had time to cook. But tonight, the narrow streets and alleys seemed ominous. Every stranger they passed seemed dangerous. At every corner, she found herself looking for men with guns.

      Even coolheaded Chase appeared uneasy. He held her hand a little too tightly. At every intersection he made her stop so he could check both ways, even scanning the tops of the buildings and fire escapes before they crossed the street. All the while his eyes took in every detail, assessed every person they passed.

      This wasn’t like Chase. He was usually the kind of man who jumped first and thought about consequences later. Tonight, his recklessness had been replaced with a caution she’d never before seen. She didn’t want to think about what that meant. Was he concerned for her and her child’s safety? Had he changed? Lily didn’t think so.

      She knew he cared for her. That he would protect her with his life. But it was too little, too late. Their relationship had already been shattered beyond repair.

      At the north end of Chinatown, they passed an Asian man walking a fat brown Labrador retriever. Chase surprised her by stopping him and speaking in fluent Chinese. But then she’d learned to expect the unexpected from him. He was so unpredictable, so complex and intense, Lily had always felt a little out of her element when she was with him.

      Chase removed his wallet and dug out two twenty-dollar bills. The man shook his head. Chase dug out two more twenties. Smiling, the man handed him his cell phone and gave a slight bow of his head.

      “Expensive phone,” she muttered.

      “Worth its weight in gold if I can find out what’s going on and get us some help.” He motioned toward a dilapidated building at the end of the block. A hand-painted sign welcomed them to the Joy Family Shelter of Boston.

      The homeless shelter was nestled in a brick structure that had once been a textile factory. Plywood splattered with graffiti covered the windows. A colorful mural depicting a Chinese parade replete with fire-breathing dragons graced the brick facade.

      At the door a white-haired man with a tiny matching goatee smiled at them. “Welcome to Joy Family Shelter,” he said in broken English.

      Chase dug another twenty from his wallet and handed it to the man. Despite her unhappiness with him, his generosity touched her.

      They entered a darkened foyer that opened to a large, rectangular room. A single battery-powered lantern sat on a bookcase, casting shadows onto scarred plaster walls and illuminating a dozen or so cots. Several were occupied by sleeping figures, many of which were women and children.

      Chase led Lily down another hall and into a second, smaller room. In the darkness he found two folded cots in the far corner and proceeded to unfold and set them up.

      Lily knew they wouldn’t be safe here for long. But she’d never been so glad to see a cot in her life. Her back ached with increasing intensity, telling her she needed to get off her feet, at least for a little while.

      “You look dead exhausted.”

      Bad word choice, she thought. Chase had unfolded a single blanket and set a thin pillow on the cot. For her, she realized. “I’m pregnant, not sick.”

      “You need to rest while you can.”

      “It’s hard to relax knowing men with guns are out there wanting to kill me.”

      “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He patted the cot. “Come on, Lily. I’m worried about you. You’re pale. Lie down for a few minutes.”

      Under any other circumstances Lily would have refused. She didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be with him. She wanted to go home where she would be safe and the world was predictable. But she could no longer ignore the ache in her back. She’d been on her feet far too long. At this stage of her pregnancy, she didn’t want to push her luck.

      “What about you?” she asked, her gaze flicking to the bloodstain on his shirt. In the darkness it appeared black.

      “I’m fine.”

      “It’s a bullet wound, isn’t it?”

      “It’s a graze.”

      She shook her head, disbelieving he could be so flippant about something as serious as a gunshot wound. “God, this is so you, Chase.”

      “I’ll take care of it as soon as we’re safe.”

      “And when will that be?”

      Grimacing, he lowered his eyes, but only for a moment. “Have you eaten?”

      Back at the hospital, she’d been famished, but the terror and adrenaline had stolen her appetite. “No, but I’m not hungry.”

      “There’s a soup kitchen in the back,” he said. “Let me see if I can rouse a volunteer and get you something to eat.”

      Too tired to argue, Lily sat on the cot.

      Before she realized what he was going to do, Chase leaned close and lifted her feet onto the thin mattress. “Lie down.” One side of his mouth curved. “Might be your last chance for a while.”

      She looked at him as he leaned his tall, sinewy frame over her, his long, unruly hair framing his face. She couldn’t see it in the dark, but she recalled the jagged white scar above his left eye. He looked even better than she remembered.

      His voice sounded so sincere, so concerned, she did as he said. The moment she stretched out, all the adrenaline that had fueled her for the past seventeen hours ebbed. Her muscles went slack as exhaustion staked its claim on her body. She didn’t want Chase to leave her, but she’d rather cut off her right hand than admit he made her feel safe.

      He must have noticed her uneasiness, because he hung

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